Andrea
by Lady Of Embers
Summary: Archibald Dodger was a strange coot who went missing from Millfields, but that's not really what the story is about.


"_Ben, I have a job for you."_

_The queen had been leaning over her map table in the War Room, a poster of a powdered man in heavy makeup wearing a piled wig in front of her. 'MISSING' was emblazoned below it, in large, black ink letters. 'Archibald Dodger. Last seen in the region of Millfields.'_

"_Your majesty?" _

_Ben, casually lounging on one of Rina's sofas as he awaited the changing of the guard, looked up, buttoning up his major's uniform. Rina looked over at him, turning back to the poster as she registered that she had his attention. _

"_One of the nobles went missing in Millfields. I need you to gather a few men and have somebody drag the lake in case there's a body. You're off duty for tonight afterwards if you do it."_

_The captain grinned, sitting up and sliding off the sofa. _

"_You know how I work eh, Rina?" he chuckled, and was rewarded by the flicker of a smile. _

"_You need any help?" She asked, nonchalant. Ben was not a reader of minds, but he sensed the Hero's desperation to leave the castle and get some fresh air and bandit action. Besides, the concept of seeing Rina parading around in the tight trousers she usually wore seemed like an engaging and interesting concept. But the queen had her duties and he had his. Which was why, for her own good, he was going to have to leave her behind. _

"_Um, nah, I'll be fine." _

_He hoped his brain hadn't blurted out the desire to see her in tight trousers, but from the way she looked at him, he wasn't sure it hadn't. _

"_Then get to your duties, soldier," she told him with a quiet sigh._

* * *

Archibald Dodger had turned up in Mourningwood, completely lost and surprised at the concept that he might have been missing for three days. As the man himself said, "I only popped out for a bally evening walk, my good fellow."

Industrial had been the closest town that served alcohol, and Ben already had a headache from listening to the posh coot talk. It had been a monologue of spittle and 'what what's', leaving Ben wondering what _was_ what and why he had been the one to suffer it. Three tired, mud-splattered soldiers trailed behind him, guns slung heavily over their shoulders. He turned his attention to the Riveter's Rest, confused as to how one fat man had made it through Silverpines unmolested where a squad of soldiers had been decimated only days before. Unless he'd gone through Bowerstone, out of Industrial and into the marshy terrain…

His head throbbed again as Smithy pushed open the door to the pub, and Ben was ushering Timmins and Galler in when he felt something small and light grab his legs, and his knees found themselves being shaken brutally. Looking down, he found himself being stared at by a small child with large brown eyes and filthy, dirt-covered skin.

"Oi," she said. "Oi. 'Ewp me, mate, innit what you guards are for?"

He was quite taken aback by the girl's brash manner, and found himself unable to form a sentence even as Timmins formed an idiotic one.

"Did your brother take your sweeties, little girl?" he teased, and then there was a yelp as Smithy smacked him upside the head. The slapper growled, gesturing with his head to the girl, whose lower lip had begun to tremble.

"M-me bruvver died last year," she told him. "An' some factory blokes came and took my mum an' me. 'Ass what I wanted t'tell you."

Ben knelt down, lowering himself until his eyes were level with hers.

"What's your name?" he asked gently.

"I ain't got one," she said nervously. "My mum, she was called Andrea though."

"Andrea, you said some men took your mum and you?" Galler asked.

"Yeah! Loads of us kids, inn'at factory by the river. S'all hush-hush, innit," she muttered. "I'nna minnit some geezer'll rock up, coming after me."

Ben stood, and held out his hand to the little girl.

"You know you aren't supposed to working in a factory, don't you?" he asked. She shook her head. "Well, the queen made a law saying children can't work in factories any more. So you need to take me to the factory and we'll see what we can do about getting you and the other kids out."

They heard an angry shout from further away, and a fat man jogged over to them, suddenly falling back on his rear as he realised what was going on. Four guns were suddenly pointing at him, and his arms raised in surrender.

"This makes it easier, thanks mate," Ben began, his tone frosty. The man's adam's apple bobbed nervously. "Oh, you think I'm going to arrest you. Well, I might." The man whimpered. "That really depends how much you help me. If you show me _exactly_ where you came from, I'll be happy to…well, Galler here grew up in a factory and he's got bad memories of them. Let's just say the man harbours a grudge against most supervisors."

Galler's grip tightened on his rifle.

"Lead me to the factory, my good fellow, and I won't sic Galler on you."

The man stumbled backwards, waving the soldiers towards the bridge that led over the river, and Ben watched in amusement as he shivered and staggered towards a factory. Smoke poured from the chimney, and for a moment Ben wondered incredulously how the factory had managed to go undiscovered. But then the doors opened, and row upon row of adults looked up at the strange group. This was the cover of the operation, the pretense that everything was above board and totally not exploiting child labour.

'Andrea' clung to Ben's leg, and one hand reached down to softly pet her hair comfortingly. The child's tiny body was shivering with fear. He wondered what they'd done to her to make her so afraid of them, and what he was going to exact on them to return the favour.

At the end of the factory, the fat man hauled open a cellar door, and gestured for them to enter.

"_You first_," Galler practically snarled, and the coward squeaked, shambling inside hurriedly. The soldiers followed, and Ben was stepping in when Andrea began to cry.

"Dun' make me go in'er again," she begged, tears falling down her face. For the first time, Ben noticed bruises on her filthy skin. He gripped her wrists and gazed into her eyes.

"I need you to be brave," he whispered. "Really, really brave. Pretend you're a soldier going into battle." Her lower lip quivered. "Please."

She wiped her eyes, nodding as she trembled.

"C-C'n you carry me, mister?" she pleaded. The Major hefted her hurriedly into his arms, holding the child close, feeling her burrow her head into his neck as they descended into the cellar.

The first thing Ben noticed was the smell, a cloying aroma of unwashed bodies and the tang of salt. Somewhere in there he sensed blood. The whole corridor facing them felt heavy with fear. In the background a child cried. He gripped Andrea tighter even as he felt her fingers digging into him. Her entire body was shaking now, and quiet sobs could be felt on his neck through the high collar.

The man opened a door, and immediately Ben could hear the whirr of machinery and a silence that carried just how scared these children were.

"I-i-it's t-t-t-through there," the man stammered. Ben's lips set themselves in a firm line.

"Galler," he murmured. "This gentleman has been very helpful. Would you like to escort him back up to the surface?"

The ginger soldier never spoke a word as he gripped the supervisor and bodily dragged him away. Ben gestured to Smithy and Timmins, gently stroking Andrea's back, and they advanced forward into the cellar. A howl came from behind them, then a scream. In a few moments there was a steady stream of screeched pleas and screamed begging coming from the corridor as Galler exorcised his childhood ghosts via the beating of a fat bully.

As the soldiers entered the room, they found themselves staring at a wooden walkway that encircled the entire room. Peering down over the bannisters, they were met with the sight of no less than fifty children, working hard sewing clothes and carrying boxes around a dingy factory room. Ben's blood boiled as he watched a woman slap a little boy across the face when he dropped a box, and his grip tightened on Andrea. Then he loosened, putting the girl down and taking his rifle. He raised it into the air, pulling the trigger. The entire factory froze, even as the screaming down the hall stopped with another bang.

"If you're not all outside having fun in thirty seconds," he yelled, "I'll give you extra homework!"

Nobody moved, until Andrea peered over the edge of the walkway. Then a single child bolted away from a supervisor. It was the boy who had been slapped. He rushed away, heading up the walkway. He was quickly followed by two children, then three, then ten, and before the factory supervisors could do anything, all fifty children were outside, squinting in the sunlight. Unbeknownst to Ben, their escape had alerted more guards, who came rushing down into the cellar, firstly to find Galler warming his hands over the burning body of the dead supervisor, and then, when the fire was out and Galler had been pulled, scowling, into their ranks, they discovered Ben Finn and his three soldiers backing nine men and women into a corner.

"Is this what I think it is, Major Finn?" one of the newcomers asked. Ben nodded, his grip tightening on his rifle.

"I've done a lot of things that aren't quite legal in my time, but this takes the cake," he snarled. "Children. Bloody children. You lot just get lazier and lazier, don't you?" He gestured with his gun for the soldiers to escort the supervisors out. "The queen hates slavery, did you know that? You should be in for a nice execution. Should be in, oh, I don't know, a few weeks or so. Should give you time to _stew_."

He turned, striding away from the scene with barely a backward glance.

A few metres behind him, Andrea crept silently, following him towards the castle.

* * *

Archibald's 'MISSING' poster was burning merrily in Rina's fireplace when Ben returned. The queen herself was seated on a sofa with a goblet of wine in her hand, a few wispy locks of chocolate brown hair escaping the scrape-backed hairstyle and curling over her eyes.

"We found him," Ben called merrily, setting his rifle down. Rina let out a loud sigh.

"I know," she called. "His wife wrote and complained." She heard Ben chuckle wearily.

"That sounds about right. If you listen to him talk it's a horror story."

He entered the room, unbuttoning his jerkin, and running a hand through his hair.

"We also found something else that's a great deal more interesting."

Rina looked up, putting down her wine and gesturing for him to continue.

"We found a child labour factory," he told her. Her mouth twisted downwards. "We arrested the ring-leaders. Nine of them." He paused. "There were ten, but one of them sort of…got a bit heated." Rina's brow raised.

"How many children?" she asked.

"Just over fifty," he replied.

"Have them brought to the orphanage. Linda can-"

She broke off, staring behind the Major. Ben twisted around, and his eyes widened. Andrea was peering around the door, watching the queen and the soldier.

"Is this one of the children?" Rina asked softly.

"This is the girl who told us the factory existed," Ben replied, smiling. "Hey, it's all right kid. Come here," he invited, and she moved slowly forward. Rina bent down until she was on her knees, and held out her hand.

"Hello, darling," she murmured. "What's your name?"

"I don't 'ave one," she whispered. "'E called me Andrea but that was my mum's name," she said, pointing to Ben.

"Do you like that name?" Rina asked gently, and the girl nodded.

"My mum was a right 'ero," Andrea told her. "I would love t'be like 'er."

"Andrea, you need to go with Ben to the Orphanage. They can find you a new mummy," Rina informed her.

"Rina," Ben interjected, "I'm capable of looking after her." The queen looked up at him in surprise. "Well don't give me that look!" he complained. "I am! I mean I've never done it before, but how hard can it be?"

The queen chuckled, standing as the girl turned to Ben.

"Parenthood isn't easy, Ben," she laughed. "If Andrea ever needs a playmate, Lina will be here for you."

"Oh come on!" Ben cried. "Have a little faith, queenie!"

* * *

Finn household visits to the palace were notably more frequent in the coming months.


End file.
